Rachel Holts is your average college girl. Seriously. She's just average. Plain brown hair and amber eyes. A few acne breakouts here and there, a best friend and a few other close friends. That's all she is. And that's all she wants. Rachel turned only 19 a few weeks ago, and her college is has already started classes.
She's got a nice schedule going for her. Monday: go to classes, drive home, go to work until close, sleep. Tuesday: go to classes, go home, work, sleep. Wednesday: sleep in a little, go out with some friends at noon, work at the end of the day, sleep. Thursday: get to class, work, sleep. Friday: class, work, sleep. Saturday: bake some food to sell for her mother's locally owned shop, maybe pick up some groceries, relax after a long week, sleep. Sunday: possibly go to church (or not), spend some time with family, sleep.
And the cycle just repeats. That is, until she meets him.
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Next here is your not so average guy, Parker Anderson. Classic, the guy is always the werewolf or vampire. Only difference between him and others, is that his pack isn't isolated from the rest of the world, in fact, his pack is all over the town and the outsides of it.
Now, onto the star of the show, Parker Anderson! The black haired, green eyed werewolf. Parker here is finally in his second year of college and only 21 years he old. He did wait a year before going to college, but high school is difficult!
Parker doesn't really have his schedule, he just goes with the flow. He'll go to school, go home, and down whatever he needs to do during the day. Maybe some days he will go to one of his buddy's place, take a nap, or maybe head to the local cafe.
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How does Anderson take it when their paths cross? How will Holts take it?
Start reading to find out!
High School.
A virtual hell to every pimple covered, greasy haired, knowledge loving kid who walks the halls of the institution. Only a very proud few manage to rise among the ranks to become "the cool kids," snagging the lucky fate of living the best years of their lives up through the twelfth grade.
We'll just not tell them what happens after they graduate. In ten years, when the kid the football team swirlied is their boss, they'll realize that it probably would have been better to not be cool when they were teens. But that doesn't matter now.
Why you ask? I'll tell you.
My name is Bridge, which isn't short for Bridgette, if you were wondering. My parents were assholes when they were younger, I guess. It could have been worse; at least I'm not a piece of fruit or an airline. Unique names can kiss my little undead butt.
Oh yeah, that. I'm also dead. No need to apologize—it's not your fault, unless you're the pile of crap who murdered me. If so, could you fill me in on what happened? I'd really like to know how my life ended. The last thing I remember is going out for a milkshake and then, poof! I was here.
Where is here, you ask? If you ask any of the adults, it's Harrison's Preparatory Institution for the Gifted and Unknown. If you ask any of the students, it's Hell Hall.
That's right, bitches; high school is now back in session.